With You Here
by ChemicallyEnhanced
Summary: It's been two years, four months, thirteen days, and five hours since Ritsu had left for America...


Disclaimer: I don't own Sekaiichi Hatsukoi because I'd probably ruin it if I did.

God, I love writing angst.

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"…hng…cold…" Masamune felt the cold air of his apartment hit his front and reached out, searching out for that one warmth in his bed to hold close to him. It was in the middle of winter, after all, and he could cling to his bedmate for some source of heat. A soft, sleepy smile played upon his lips as he thought about who was in the bed with him.

He slowly hurtled towards consciousness, his eyes creaking open when he didn't encounter the heat of another body next to him. For a moment, all he saw was darkness, the contents of his apartment blurry, indistinct shapes that he couldn't make out. Masamune blinked once, twice, and turned to the other side of the bed, where—

There was nothing but empty air and his blankets. His smile disappeared so quickly one would believe it wasn't even there in the first place. His heart dropped into his stomach, taking residence there with no desire of coming back up. Oh right. Ritsu wasn't there anymore. Nausea rose up within him, but he swallowed thickly, feeling his throat tighten. _Ritsu wasn't there anymore_. Ritsu wasn't…he wasn't—

The familiar prickle of tears reminded Masamune of a fate that he was forced to live through, forced to watch from the sidelines as it happened. It was so funny, he used to think when he started crying more often. Before, he _never_ cried, never showed any emotion that would alert others to his vulnerable state, but now he let tears come like they were natural because there was no way to stop them. There was no way to stop the pain he felt inside from coalescing into the salty water that ran down his cheeks, cold in the bitter nights since Ritsu had left.

Masamune sat up slowly, holding his face in his hands. Tears seeped through the cracks in his fingers and dripped onto the bed, creating small dots of wetness that were also familiar. He'd spent many nights in this same position after having a painfully bittersweet dream about his Ritsu still here with him. _But he's not here, is he? He's in America, living his own life…_ without _me_. _I thought he…he loved me, he said so himself, didn't he? So why did he still leave?_

Some told Masamune that he was being melodramatic; it wasn't as if Ritsu were _dead_ , he was still somewhere in the world and alive and healthy. He didn't care. It'd taken _so long_ to get where he'd been with Ritsu when he was still here in Japan, and yet all of Masamune's efforts were for nothing. Ritsu still left, he still transferred to some publishing company in America—for _literature_ , like he always wanted right? Masamune still laughed bitterly at that—he still left Masamune behind like he didn't even matter, even going so far as to marry his ex-fiancé, Kohinata An…

Really, it was _that_ fact that always hit Masamune the hardest. Why did he have to marry her? He would've been fine on his own in America; Ritsu spoke English, he was intelligent and could maneuver his way around the streets and roads—not that Masamune wanted Ritsu to be alone. He would have rather gone to America _with_ Ritsu instead. But _no_ , Ritsu had actually insisted that having someone alongside him _that his parents approved of_ would help. So Ritsu's parents didn't like Masamune? Was that it? Ritsu never left any explanation at all when he left—two years ago.

Yes, it had been two years, four months, thirteen days and…five hours since Ritsu left to America. Masamune had been counting every single day, wondering when—or _if_ —Ritsu would come back and they could pick up where they'd last left off. He was waiting for Ritsu. He could wait for him for forever, really…not that Ritsu would even appreciate the thought.

Ritsu probably didn't even care about him now, Masamune thought cruelly, feeling the burn of pain that always lanced through him when he thought about that. He curled in on himself, his stomach hurting terribly and his body shaking. Ritsu didn't care, that's why he left without telling Masamune why he was even doing so, why he suddenly wanted to resign from Marukawa Publishing, why he wanted to break up with him.

 _Of course_ …

Masamune padded over to his kitchen table and sat down, not caring that it was the middle of winter and he would most likely get a cold from sitting around with no protection. At Marukawa since Ritsu left, he became even more vicious, shouting at everyone and being more of a "tyrant" than he already was. He supposed it was Ritsu's presence at work that softened him up a little, kept him from throwing tables and staplers. Now that Ritsu wasn't there anymore, Masamune didn't hold back. He yelled louder and cursed more at printers on the phone, he demanded more from his department, he developed a really unhealthy coffee addiction, he showed no mercy towards his late authors.

Nobody wanted to feel the wrath of Takano Masamune these days, so they all stayed out of his way, stopped inviting him out for drinks. Even Yokozawa kept his own distance, choosing to spend more time with Kirishima Zen from _Japun_. Masamune _still_ didn't understand how that happened, even after all this time. But of course, none of that ever removed the mess he was inside every day. He didn't think he could feel even worse than when Ritsu had left him twelve years ago, but Masamune actually _knew_ where Ritsu was, knew what Ritsu was doing, and he could do nothing about it. All he could do was read the letters that Ritsu had sent him updating Masamune on his progress in America.

 _Ah that's right…those letters that he stopped sending after last year._

The letter, so innocuous and harmless sitting on his kitchen table, read so many times that Masamune could memorize what was on there now.

 _Dear Takano-san,_ (Masamune already knew something was wrong when Ritsu addressed him as such; he hadn't done that in such a long time)

 _How are things back in Japan? It must be nearing summer now, isn't it? How are you doing? America is so_ hot _; I don't think I could ever get used to it!_ (Here there was some scribbling out) _An-chan says hello as well, asks how you're doing. Work is going fine, the people here at Simon and Schuster are really nice, and guess what? I got a pay raise last week! Isn't that great? Now I can finally buy that car that I've been wanting!_ (More scribbling out)

 _Takano-san, I don't think…I can send you anymore letters._ (There was a sentence scribbled out here that suspiciously looked like "I wish I could be there with you right now", but Masamune could never be too sure…)

 _I'm sorry._

 _-Onodera Ritsu_

And so that was the end of their correspondence. Masamune had tried sending letters for six months afterwards, but never received an answer from the one he so desperately wished would talk to him again. Overseas calls were expensive, as Ritsu had said in his earlier letters, so Masamune tried not to go with that option. He called once before he realized that Ritsu had changed his number, meaning he didn't want Masamune calling him.

More small drops appeared on the table in front of him. He missed Ritsu, he missed him so much it was a physical ache he could feel every single day. After so long living off of Ritsu's love, Masamune didn't know what he could do with this sudden cut-off of his supply. He could only live off of the now-bittersweet memories he shared with Ritsu, and even then, they were growing fuzzy. He couldn't remember what Ritsu had said that one time in the café, or what his hand had felt like against Masamune's, or the exact shape of Ritsu's nose. God, this was complete and utter torture.

He started when he heard a knocking at his door, not expecting _anyone_ to visit him anymore. The only people who did were Ritsu and Yokozawa, and even then, Yokozawa would never visit this late at night. Or morning. What time was it? Ah, right, it was _3.00_. Masamune dragged himself out of the chair and went over to open the—

 _What?_

There was Onodera Ritsu, standing at his door with his bags like he'd just gone on some sort of vacation, smiling nervously up at him. _What? What? WHAT?!_ Masamune could do nothing but stare at Ritsu for a moment, his heart clattering against his ribs. He felt as if he suddenly couldn't breathe, the air having escaped his lungs for this one moment. Ritsu waved weakly at Masamune, his eyes shining.

"Hi Masamune," was all he said before he fell silent again.

Then, all at once, Masamune could feel life coming back to him, and he inhaled sharply, and lunged forward, and brought Ritsu so tightly to him he was sure the other couldn't breathe. He didn't even know what he was saying, only nonsense words like _I missed you_ and _You idiot, please don't do that to me again_ and _I love you I love you I love you I love you, Ritsu_ … He could feel himself crying again as he buried his wet cheeks into Ritsu's neck and breathed in the very real, very warm scents of _Ritsu_ , of his very real body standing in his doorway right now.

Ritsu only let out a sound in between crying and laughing as he hugged Masamune back just as tightly. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere ever again."

And though there were sure to be many questions, and many things needed to be solved before either of them could truly settle down, Masamune let Ritsu's words wash over him, and he felt whole again.

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A/N: I love angst—and happy endings. That is all.

-ChemicallyEnhanced


End file.
